Sacrifice
by iluvtorun
Summary: Slade expects Oliver to chose between Laurel and Felicity, but Felicity makes the ultimate sacrifice.
1. Choice

_AN: Happy Holidays, readers! This whole idea of Slade reenacting the moment Oliver had to choose between Shado and Sara has been niggling at me. An impossible, weighty choice, and this is what I came up with. Sorry for the feels. The characters are all DC and the CW, of course. _

Chapter 1: Choice

Slade raised his gun as Oliver came out onto the rooftop. He pulled up short at the sight before him, his blood running cold as the horror of the situation settled in. A light dusting of snow covered the rooftop and continued to fall. It was rare for snow to fall in Starling City, and rarer still for it to fall on Christmas Day. Felicity and Laurel were on their knees before Slade, arms bound behind their backs. Flakes of snow collected in their hair. They both looked terrified-Laurel had tears in her eyes, but Felicity met and held his gaze as Oliver came out on to the roof. There was something in her eyes that made a hollow form in the pit of his stomach. She didn't understand what was going on, but she believed in him to get them all out alive. He felt a sense of desperation, because he knew exactly what this was, and her trust in him could not be more misplaced. Unless, by some miracle, Diggle had located Sara and they made it here in the next five minutes, he could not see how this would end well. The sense of deja vu was nearly overwhelming, and for a moment the snow covered urban landscape before him was replaced by the cool forest in the dark of night.

"Put down your bow," Slade commanded. He stood maybe two feet behind Felicity and Laurel, equidistant between them.

Oliver swallowed, considering his options. His bow was fast, but his arrows would not be enough to stop Slade from pulling the trigger, thanks to the _Mirakuru_. It was a chance Oliver wasn't willing to take. His only hope was that he could reason with Slade, where he had failed to reason with Ivo. If he could convince Slade to kill him instead, then they both could live. Lowering his bow, he raised his hands. "This is between you and me, Slade," he said slowly. "They have nothing to do with this." Slade's lips raised in a snarl, but Oliver continued on. "Don't make either of them pay for my sins. That would dishonor _her_." He thought of Shado, or more specifically her ghost, in the hall of his house just a few weeks before. _Everyone you love will die_. He clenched his jaw and had to fight not to close his eyes against the fear of this situation.

"Don't you speak of her!" Slade screamed, clearly a man on edge. "You have no right. She chose you and _you _CHOSE to let her die."

Oliver inhaled against the vivid memory of Shado and Sara before him on the dark forest floor, just as Felicity and Laurel were before him down. _It's time to choose Oliver._ That was what Ivo had said to him. _Who lives and who dies. But choose quickly because in thirty seconds, I will shoot them both_. An impossible choice then, and an even more impossible one now.

"I wanted Ivo to take me instead!" He ground out, exhaling past the pain of the memory. "But he was going to kill them both. Don't do what he did. If he had listened to me then, she would still be alive."

Slade took a step toward the women and swung his gun in Laurel's direction. "So you chose HER SISTER over Shado? Over the woman who shared your bed for nearly a year, who taught you to fight and how to shoot that bow? You have no right to wear her hood!" Oliver could hear the rage that had been festering inside Slade for the last five years. He had been working toward this vendetta ever since Oliver thought he had killed him with an arrow through the eye, he could see that now.

Laurel was looking confused now, as well as terrified. She glanced and Felicity, and then back at him. The reference to her sister hadn't gone unnoticed, but she hadn't put the pieces together yet. Felicity on the other hand, suddenly had tears in her eyes. He knew that she finally understood what was happening here. He wondered if she would ever look at him the same way again, if they made it out of this alive.

xxx

Felicity let out a quiet cry as everything Slade was saying clicked in to place. No wonder the man before her, who she trusted implicitly, was so scarred emotionally from his time on that island. He had been forced to make more impossible decisions in those five years than most people had to make in a lifetime. She remembered his words from months before. _These were five years where nothing good happened_. She hadn't understood then. And she suspected she was only understanding the tip of the iceburg now. _Oh, Oliver_. This nut-job with the eyepatch an a vendetta had clearly been on Lian Yu with Oliver. She also understood that he was attempting to recreate the situation they were talking about-apparently someone had made Oliver choose between Sara and the mysterious Shado, just as Slade was trying to make Oliver choose now between Laurel and herself. It was a choice he shouldn't have to make. No matter what he chose, she knew the guilt would be another layer of pain on his already over-weighted shoulders. There had to be another way.

Apparently Oliver's idea of another way was trading his own life for theirs. She listened as he pleaded with nutso eyepatch guy. "Don't do this Slade. They are innocent in this. Before, we were all involved. But this isn't about either of them. It's YOU and ME."

Slade snarled again, and Felicity suddenly felt the barrel of the gun pressed against the back of her head. Oliver's eyes went feral as he took a step closer. She could see that he was dangerously close to losing control. "They are NOT innocent," Slade snarled. "This one helps you day and night." The gun pressed harder in to her head. "She keeps your secrets." Then the gun was gone, and Felicity knew from Laurel's sharp inhale that it was no pressed her head. "And this one . . . you have such guilt over your past that you chose her sister over Shado."

Felicity knew the exact second that everything clicked in to place for Laurel. She sucked in her breath and looked wildly between Felicity and Oliver with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Ol-ollie?" She finally stammered. Felicity watched as Oliver's jaw clenched.

"Take off her hood!" Slade demanded. Oliver reached up and slowly lowered the hood. The green mask Barry had made for him still covered his face, but it was enough to confirm Laurel's suspicion. Felicity listened as the woman next to her began to hyperventilate. She, on the other hand, couldn't bring herself to look away from Oliver. There was so much pain and regret etched all over his beautiful face in that moment, and she realized that this was going to happen. There would be no miraculous rescue. Oliver was going to have to choose, unless she could come up with a way to keep him from having to make that choice. And he _shouldn't _have to make a choice like that again. He would never recover. He hadn't even recovered from the first time he had to make it. She would be damned if she would let it happen again.

xxx

As Oliver lowered his hood, he took in Laurel's look of disbelief, then he locked on to Felicity's gaze, trying hard to convey everything he had never said to her. He didn't know how this was going to end, but it wasn't going to be good. Laurel sounded like she was hyperventilating, and he found it odd that he felt nothing at her realization of his true identity. Back when he first came home, he used to dream about what her reaction would be. But now it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He was in an impossible place again, and he had no idea what he was going to do. Help was not coming. He wasn't sure that there was a choice that he could live with.

"Time's up, Oliver," Slade said menacingly. He swung the gun toward Felicity as he began counting down, and Oliver wondered if he knew that Ivo had done the same exact thing. "Ten."

He remembered Shado's ghost in the hall of his house again. _Stop fighting. And LIVE_._ Or everyone you love will die._

"Nine." The gun was on Laurel now. Laurel, who kept him alive on that island. Who he had already let down more times than he could count.

"Eight." Felicity again. Who believed in him. Who stayed with him, even though it was dangerous and terrible and dark to do so.

"Please Slade!" He cried desperately. "Take me and let them go!"

"Death is too easy of a release for you!" Slade spat out. "You should suffer for your sins. Seven." Back to Laurel.

"Ollie!" Laurel cried out his name, closing her eyes as the gun pressed back into her head.

He yelled in frustration, unable to find the solution to this problem. Last time he had put himself between Ivo's gun and Sara because Ivo's gun was pointing at Sara at the time. Ivo had then shot Shado. He could not fail either of these women-could not live with himself if let either of them die.

"Six." Back on Felicity.

"Oliver." Felicity's clear voice broke through his frustration, and she met his gaze with tears in her eyes. She was shaking now, much as she had when the Count had taken her.

"Five." Laurel.

"You deserve to be happy Oliver," Felicity said. His breath whooshed out, and he realized she thought he was still in love with Laurel.

"Four." Back on Felicity. Who closed her eyes as the gun pressed back into her head. Then she opened them again and met his gaze.

"This isn't your fault," she said, and her eyes told him so much more than her words. His stomach dropped out, and time seemed to slow down.

"Three." Back to Laurel.

Felicity closed her eyes again, and Oliver knew she was up to something the moment before it happened. Slade was swinging the gun back toward her again, "two" on his lips, when Felicity gathered herself and climbed to her feet and spun around, throwing her entire weight against Slade. His tiny, untrained assistant, with her hands tied behind her, threw herself at an armed, well-trained supersoldier. He lunged for her, screaming her name, but he knew even as he moved that it was too late. _He_ was too late.

He heard the gunshot, saw the spray of blood come from her. He was fairly certain that his world was ending when he saw the blood. A look of surprise came across Slade's face, and he wrapped his other arm around Felicity, keeping her from falling to the ground. Laurel fell to the ground, screaming.

Oliver reached them, punching Slade's face with his right hand while wrapping his left around Felicity, pulling her away from Slade. He let her go, and then Oliver was laying her down in the snow, oblivious to anything but the blood gushing from gaping hole in her shoulder. There was too much blood. A part of him whispered that he should turn to defend them against Slade, but that voice was tamped down by the panic for Felicity, who looked pale and lifeless laying against the snow-covered roof as a pool of red spread around her. Oliver could hear his own blood wooshing in his ears.

Suddenly there was another figure on the roof. Black clad leather placing herself between Slade and the rest of them. Sara. He pulled his glove off one hand and felt for a pulse as he tried to slow the flow of blood from her wound. Her pulse was there, but barely. She needed a hospital or she was going to die. She had taken the choice out of his hands, because . . . why? Because she wanted him to be happy. She wanted him to live, just as Shado had said to him. But she seemed to think he could both live _and_ fight. As her blood covered his hands, he realized with ridiculous clarity that he couldn't live without her in his life. "Stay with me, Felicity. Stay with me."


	2. Secrets

_AN: Thank you all for the great reviews, follows and favs. As you know, I'm a bit obsessive when I start a fic, so here's Chapter 2. First time writing from both of these characters POV. The world needs more Diggle :-)_

Chapter 2: Secrets

John Diggle still had a good ten flights of stairs to climb when he heard the gunshot. He froze for a moment as the muffled sound reached his ears, then started taking the stairs two at a time. He could hear Lance following a few flights below him. He could think of a thousand different things that gunshot could mean, but none of them were good things. Oliver had told him what had happened on the island, and what he suspected Slade was up to by taking both Felicity and Laurel. He hoped, for Oliver's sake, that Slade was on the receiving end of that gunshot. Because any other result would probably make Oliver lose what little bit of sanity he'd managed to pull out for himself this year.

As soon as Oliver had received a call from Slade, telling him that there was a choice to be made, he had sent Diggle to find Sara Lance. It had only taken him twelve hours, but as he climbed those endless stairs to the roof of the building, he was thinking it had taken him too long. Finally he pushed the door open and the cold air hit him. The roof was stunningly bright after the darkness of the stairwell. First he saw Sara, standing in a defensive posture, watching a large darkhaired man leap to the edge of the rooftop. It had to be Slade. Then Diggle realized no one was giving chase. He could only think of a couple of reasons for that, and again, none of them were good.

That's when he saw Oliver, bending over Felicity, and he felt a drop in his gut as he raced toward them. "Oh my God," he groaned, as he took in the red pooling under Felicity. He remembered the gunshot, and cursed himself for not being faster. Five minutes earlier and maybe they could have prevented him. Oliver looked at him, hood down, and there was so much fear in his haunted eyes that Digg almost looked away.

"She's losing too much blood," Oliver said. "We have to get her to the hospital now."

"Lance is coming," Diggle said, hoping that Oliver would raise his hood. He saw that Laurel was conscious, and staring at Sara with wide eyes. Sara had turned her back on Laurel and was watching Oliver and Felicity, a look of pain and desolation on her face.

"It doesn't matter," Oliver said.

Digg tried again. "Oliver . . . "

"IT DOESN'T MATTER," Oliver shounted. "We've got to get her to the hospital."

The door to the roof was thrown open again, and Lance was there. "Christ," he said, taking in Felicity's condition. He pulled off his jacket and stuffed it into Oliver's hands. Only then did he look up and actually SEE that the hood was down. "Queen?" He said, shock in his voice.

"You can arrest me later," he said. "We have got to get her out of here." Packing both sides of her open wound as well as he could with the jacket, Oliver lifted Felicity into his arms and headed for the stairs.

Diggle turned to follow him as Lance turned to Laurel. Digg saw Sara look at her father, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Then she was over the edge of the roof.

The trip down the stairs seemed to take forever. Lance gestured toward his police cruiser, pushing Laurel into the front seat. She still looked stunned, and had been noticeably silent since their arrival. Diggle quickly grabbed Oliver's bag out of the back of the Mercades, then climbed into the back of the cruiser with Oliver and Felicity. He propped her legs on his lap while Oliver cradled her head. Digg shoved the bag at him. "You need to find a way to change," he told Oliver. Oliver just stared at him. Digg realized he wasn't thinking at all about his identity at that moment. Oliver Queen's world started and ended with Felicity at that particular moment.

"Change, Queen," Lance said as they sped down the road. "I can sell this, but not if you are wearing green leather pants."

Oliver sighed, and somehow managed to get out of Arrow getup and into street clothes without jostling Felicity too much. Once he was resituated, he threaded his hand through Felicity's limp one. His other hand went to her neck, and he swore. "Her pulse is getting weaker."

"Almost there," Lance said, and he reached for his radio so that the hospital would be waiting for them.

Digg put a hand on Felicity's knee. They had become steadfast friends this year—he counted her among the few people he would trust with his life. He looked at Oliver's lost expression, and the way his thumb circled on her hand. "Hang in there Felicity," he muttered. _For all of us_.

xxx

Laurel watched as Ollie and his bodyguard rushed off with the doctors and Felicity Smoak. As the doors closed hiding them from view, she whirled on her father. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?" He asked, concern in his eyes.

She looked at the crowded waiting room, and thought that perhaps this wasn't the best place to have this conversation. She pulled him down the hall, to a quiet corner. She felt as if her entire messed up world had been turned on its head in the past thirty minutes, and she was unwilling to wait a second longer for answers.

"Who was that, in black?" she asked. "Because I got a good look at her face, Dad . . . and it looked like Sara."

"Laurel . . ."

Tears flooded her eyes, and she realized she was _right_. "Oh my God!" She inhaled, then asked the next most pressing question on her long, long list of things that weren't quite right about today. "And WHY were you more surprised that Oliver is the vigilante than you were to see my DEAD SISTER on a rooftop where I had just been held at gunpoint by a man with an eyepatch?"

"The Arrow." He dad said calmly.

She was utterly confused. "What?" She asked, throwing her arms out to the side.

"He likes to be called the Arrow now, and he isn't a vigilante."

She shook her head and inhaled, so that she wouldn't scream her frustration for the entire hospital to hear. "You used to hate him! Both the Hood AND Oliver, and now you are taking this in stride. And you are evading me about Sara. You KNEW she was alive?"

Her dad put his hand on her shoulder again. "Look, Laurel, I know a lot of this is a shock. It was to me too."

She brushed his hand off. "How long?"

He sighed, scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Just over a month . . . I wanted to tell you, but she asked me not to. It wasn't safe."

Her eyes flooded with tears, that he would keep this from her for so long. She thought of how much she had been struggling, struggled still, and what a difference this huge piece of information would have made.

"You want to tell me what happened on that rooftop?" He asked her, clearly making an effort to change the subject.

She exhaled again and scrubbed away the tears in her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. "The last I remembered I was in my apartment last night. And then the eyepatch guy took me to that roof this morning, with Ollie's assistant. No wonder I've been seeing so much from her . . . " She shook her head, unable to believe that Oliver was the vigilante. Had been the vigilante since he came back. She thought of that time in the prison, when she saw the viciousness the hood was capable. She thought he was a guardian angel . . . until she saw him walk away from Tommy. And then she felt a stab in her heart, as she realized Oliver had most likely watched Tommy die. And then she remembered how she had single-mindedly persued the Hood when he returned Starling. What had happened to him on that island?

She shook off that train of thought. "He was going to make Ollie choose between us. Something about Ollie having picked Sara over another girl. She was there with him too? And he knew all this time, and never told me . . . " She shook her head, trying not to think about all of it. It was too much. "He tried to talk him out of it, but it wasn't working. And then his assistant, she threw herself in front of the guy and he shot her. And then he ran away when Sara came. I think she knew I realized it was her, because she wouldn't look at me again. Why doesn't she want me to know?" She couldn't keep the pain from her voice.

Her dad pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. "Its . . . complicated."

She exhaled, and let go. For all of his short comings, she could always count on her dad to hold her while she cried.

xxx

Oliver leaned against the wall and glanced again at the clock. Felicity had been in surgery for an hour, and they had heard very little from the doctors. Diggle had brought him another change of clothes, and had pressed him toward the bathroom. It had taken him too long to wash her blood off of his hands. It had given him too much time to think about what she had done.

She had intentionally taken the choice out of his hands. He still couldn't believe it. It was an incredibly brave, incredibly stupid thing for her to do. She could have easily been killed. She _still_ could die, but he refused to let himself think about that. No one had ever made such a huge sacrifice for him. And she knew _exactly _who he was. She didn't know every single bad story, but she knew there were a lot of them, and she still did it. She was without a doubt the most courageous person he knew, and she had done it for _him_. There was nothing in this life, or the next, that he could do to be worthy of her.

Diggle pressed a coffee into his hands, then returned to his position leaning against the OR desk.

At some point, Lance came and quietly spoke with Digg, who nodded at him. He couldn't imagine what Lance, or Laurel for that matter, were thinking right now. He supposed he would have to deal with that eventually. But not now. Right now, he needed for Felicity to be okay. He could deal with the rest of it later.


	3. Conversations

_AN: So so so glad everyone is enjoying, and thanks for all the great reviews. Be on the lookout for multiple chapters today, dying to finish this before tomorrow as my gift to all of you, but sometimes these things get a life of their own :-)_

Chapter 3: Conversations

Ninety minutes after they had taken her back, the doctor came to talk to them. The doctor came out and called her name. Digg watched as Oliver pushed himself off the wall and walked slowly over, seeming unsure if he wanted to hear the news. Digg stood just behind him, and took in the tension in Oliver's shoulders. She _had _ to be okay.

The doctor gave them a half smile. "She made it through surgery," he began. Oliver let out a whoosh of breath and Diggle exhaled in relief. "There was extensive damage to the subclavian artery and her clavicle, from the close range of the weapon's discharge, but we were able to repair both. The outlook is good from here. We don't expect her to wake for several hours, but you are welcome to see her."

Oliver nodded and the doctor directed them to her room.

Oliver froze in her doorway, and Digg put a hand on his shoulder. "She shouldn't be in here Digg." Oliver said, and there was no missing the pain in the tone. Diggle knew that this was not the time to tell him that it went the territory. Oliver would not want to hear that she was as much a part of this team as they were, and with that came risks.

Instead, he squeezed Oliver's shoulder. "She's going to be okay, Oliver. That's all that matters."

Oliver nodded, and he drug in a ragged breath, stepping into the room.

She looked so small and pale in the hospital bed. Diggle again felt guilt for not making it there sooner. Maybe they could have prevented this. He watched as Oliver went to her, kissing her forehead gently. Digg drug a chair over and shoved it behind him. "Sit," he said. Oliver looked at him gratefully, and sat down, taking her hand. Digg noticed his thumb was already drawing circles on her hand again, and wondered if Oliver even knew he was doing it. He wondered if the younger man had any idea how he really felt about her.

He saw the guilt and regret in Oliver's eyes as he looked at Felicity, and he asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew what his answer would be. "You want to talk about it?"

Oliver exhaled again. "It was exactly what I was worried it would be," he said slowly. "He had them both on their knees and he told me to choose. He has been nursing this vendetta over Shado, all this time. He loved her, I think. It makes it worse, because while I cared . . . " Digg watched as he turned Felicity's hand over and traced the lines of her palm, exhaling again. "While I cared about her, I don't think I ever really loved her. She deserved better."

Oliver paused for a moment, and Digg waited him out. He was surprised to get this much from him. Generally Oliver didn't share unless it was absolutely necessary.

"At some point, Laurel figured my identity out. And I was surprised, because it didn't matter. I just wanted them both safe, but Slade wouldn't listen to me. He was beyond reason."

Oliver looked up at Digg then, and he saw unshed tears in the younger man's eyes. "She looked at me, and she told me I deserved to be happy and that it wasn't my fault, and then she got up and threw herself at him. As if I could be happy . . . " Oliver swallowed thickly. Digg knew Oliver had truly thought he was going to lose her. "As if happy could exist in a world without her in it."

Digg closed his eyes. That was such a Felicity thing to do. Reckless and brave, without a thought for herself. If only he had been there sooner. The thought was like a mantra.

"I was helpless to stop any of it," Oliver sighed. "I've never felt so helpless in my life. I was sitting there, wondering how I could make that choice, and she made it for me." Oliver took another deep breath and looked at the hand in his lap. His jaw clenched and he shook his head. "If only I could have thought of _something, _maybe she wouldn't be here. I said we could protect her, but I didn't. She wouldn't be here, if not for me."

Ah, there it was. Oliver's ever present guilt. Digg couldn't let it slide. "No, Oliver, you don't get to play that card any more than the rest of us. I feel terrible too, because if I had found Sara just a little faster, we might have been in time." Oliver looked like he was about to argue, but Digg cut him off again. "I heard that gunshot as I was coming up the stairs. We're talking minutes, Oliver. I was late by minutes. So you aren't the only one who feels guilty."

Oliver exhaled. "I should have protected her."

"You can't protect her all the time. She is here because she wants to be, Oliver. You need to remember that."

Oliver looked back at Felicity and reached to touch her hair. "I've watched a lot of people die, Digg. When I realized what she . . . " Oliver had to stop again and clear his throat. Digg was more than a little shocked at how open Oliver was being. It was very un-Oliver. "When I realized what she was doing, and I saw her get shot, I was certain I was going to lose her. And _that_ was unbearable." He raised Felicity's hand and kissed it. Again Digg wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing.

"Maybe you should tell her that." Digg said simply. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Oliver was shaking his head.

"I can't . . ." He said, and Digg could hear the edge of hopelessness and desperation in his voice.

Digg walked over and put his hand on Oliver's shoulder, touched Felicity's head for a moment and took the time to say a prayer of thanks that she survived, for all of their sakes. "She's still here Oliver. Ask yourself what you would regret the most if she weren't." Then he headed out into the hall without another word, leaving his friend to face his demons alone for awhile. Either he would, or he wouldn't. There wasn't much else he could do.

xxx

Laurel to a deep breath and stepped in to the hospital room. Ollie was sitting next to his assistant, feet propped up on the edge of her bed. He was holding her hand in his lap and drawing gentle patterns on it with his other hand. She felt a stab at the intimacy of the gesture. This woman knew Oliver's secret identity, so they obviously were very close. He looked surprisingly relaxed, considering the situation, but also worn and battle weary. She realized she hadn't seen him look like that . . . ever. She had told him once that she understood that he had changed while he was gone, but it was really hitting home how much he had changed. Not for the first time, she wondered what all had happened while he was away, to change him so much.

"How is she?" she asked gently.

He took his feet down from the bed and leaned forward, giving her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. She realized his smiles to her hadn't done so in a long time. "Laurel," he said. He placed Felicity's hand gently next to her on the bed. "She's better. Hopefully waking up soon."

Laurel nodded, then sat down in a chair next to Ollie's. "So . . ." she started. She had thought this conversation over in her head for the last few hours, but had no idea where to _really _start. "Were you ever going to tell me?" She finally asked. She didn't specify if she meant his identity as the Hood, or about Sara. He shook his head. She exhaled in frustration. "Why not?"

"It's not safe Laurel. Today proved that," he said, gesturing to Felicity.

"You don't think I had a right to know Sara made it to that island with you?"

He inhaled sharply. "It was . . . complicated."

There was that word again. She hated it. "Tommy . . ." she started.

"Tommy knew." He said softly, taking her completely by surprise. "You should know that one of the last things he did was ask if you made it out okay." She saw pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't get there sooner, and that I didn't save him."

Laurel dropped her head in shame. "I blamed you." She watched him nod, and guilt filled her. "I shouldn't have."

He shrugged. "I blamed myself, so why not?"

"The guy on the rooftop . . . " She said.

"I am sorry about that." He turned away from her, toward his assistant again, and Laurel watched as he touched her hand again. "I talked about you . . . on the island. And he knew Sara was your sister, and a friend of his . . . ours . . . died because. . . " he exhaled. "It, too, was incredibly complicated. But he knew you were important to me."

"What would you have done?" She nodded her head at the woman in the hospital bed. "If she hadn't . . . " The words were out of her mouth before she thought about them, and the look of devastation on Ollie's face made her regret them instantly. A mask went over his face, and his jaw clenched. She hadn't realized how open he was being with her until he turned it off and shut down. The person she was looking at now was the one she had seen since she returned for the island.

He sank back down in the chair by the hospital bed and scrubbed both hands over his face. "Should I be expecting a visit from you and Donner later in an official capacity?"

That hurt. That he thought she would just turn him over like that. Then she thought about her actions in the fall, when she had tried repeatedly to capture the Hood. It hurt, but it probably wasn't too far off base. Which hurt ever more. "Of course not. Your secret is safe with me."

He snorted. "My secret isn't much of a secret these days. But thank you."

She nodded. This has a sense of finality to it. She had always, in the back of her mind, believed that they would eventually find their way to each other again. Even if just for the sex. But as she realized how little she knew or understood this new version of Oliver Queen, she realized it was over. Truly and fully over. "Bye, Ollie," she said softly as she left. She noticed he had the blonde's hand back in his lap again.

_AN2 and TOTAL fan girl moment: Has anyone seen the interview with Emily Bett Rickards on Youtube from Popsugar. Looks like Felicity gets a backstory in 2x13. (Fistpump). FINALLY!_


	4. Awake

Chapter 4: Awake

Felicity became aware of the pain shoulder first. She gasped awake as she remembered how it happened. Slade and the rooftop and the gun, and Oliver. "Shhh, it's okay." She felt a hand on her good shoulder, and then he was there, over her.

"Oliver," she exhaled, leaning back into the bed.

"Hey," he said, moving his hand slightly to run his thumb around her jawline. He handed her glasses to her, and then she could really see him. He looked as handsome as always in a white tee and jeans. He was sitting in a rather uncomfortable looking chair that he had pulled right next to the bed. She met his clear blue eyes, and lost herself there for she didn't know how long.

"What happened?" She asked.

His jaw clenched. "You got yourself shot."

She smiled at him. "_That_ part I remember. What else?"

He was staring at her, and she wondered if she was maybe slurring her words and not realizing it. "What?" She asked.

He closed his eyes, shook his head. She watched his jaw work, and knew he was struggling with all of it. He was standing next to her bed now, his fingers resting on the edge of her bed.

"I told you, this isn't your fault," she whispered. She touched his fingertips gently with hers.

His fingers came up and intertwined with hers. And then his eyes were locked on hers, and the intensity there took her breath away. "I don't think you understand," he whispered. Nope, clearly not. So she waited. And waited. And waited. He just stared her down.

"Oliver!" She finally said, frustrated. "What happened?"

"You. Got. Shot." He said again, slowly. She threw her hands in the air in frustration and immediately groaned in pain.

"Dammit Felicity," he said, pushing her arms back down. "Don't be stupid."

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Said the pot to the kettle. What happened with Slade? Laurel?"

Oliver settled himself in the chair next to her, pulling it up so that his elbows rested on the bed next to her elbow. He tented his hands and rested his chin on them. "You got shot," he said again slowly.

"I think we've established that!" She growled, frustrated that he was being so cagy.

"And the world stopped," he breathed out finally, closing his eyes and reaching for her hand. "And I would really, _really _appreciate it if you never did that to me again." She squeezed his hand, and waited for him to continue. He didn't, again.

"Slade?" She prompted again.

"Got away," he said, drawing circles on her hand with his thumb.

Hmm, and wasn't _that _interesting. Where was the man who relentlessly pursued his adversaries, especially those who hurt the ones he loved. "And?" She prompted again.

"And I was too busy trying to keep you from bleeding out on the roof to care about anything else," he said softly.

"Oh." She said. "Um, I'm sorry about that, I guess."

He looked at her incredulously. "You _guess?_"

"I'm sorry that I got hurt, Oliver, but I had to do something."

He was already shaking his head at her. "That really wasn't an acceptable something . . . "

She cut him off. "Oliver, no one should have to make a choice like that."

He froze, and looked at her with unfathomable eyes. There were lines on the edges of his eyes as he squinted at her. "I should have . . ." He started.

"No!" She leaned forward and poked him in the chest. She would not let him guilt himself about this. That had been the entire point. "You are being ridiculous. You don't need to justify anything to me!" How to make him see? " Let's what if, shall we?"

"Felicity . . . " He tried again.

"Shush, you! You will sit and listen and then you will stop feeling guilty for something out of your control!" She leaned back in her hospital bed with a huff. "Say our roles were reversed, and some nutso in an eyepatch took, oh, I dunno, you and Digg. Two people who I care about and would do anything for." He quirked his lips at that and she took a deep breath. "Not that either of you are my Laurel, but whatever. IF that happened, it would be ridiculous to expect me to choose, because you are both my friends. I couldn't do it, and you shouldn't have to either, and you don't need to apologize for anything. No should have, could have, would have. It was an impossible situation. I can live with how it ended, because we're all still here. So just don't."

He had tilted his head, and was regarding her with an intense look in his eyes. "Neither of us are your Laurel, huh?"

She sighed. "You know what I mean. An amazingly gorgeous woman with whom you have a long and painful and incredibly complicated history. Not that you and Digg aren't. God, never mind, you know what I mean so I'll just shut up now."

Oliver smiled a real, genuine smile, something she felt like she hadn't seen in ages. "Since when?"

She leaned forward and punched him. He grabbed her hand again, and surprised her by taking it to lips and kissing it gently. He sighed. "Do you know how incredible you are?" He asked softly. If him kissing her hand had surprised her, his words absolutely floored her.

"Oliver . . . " She said softly.

He held her hand in both of his, tented on her hospital bed. He gently rubbed his chin across their hands, the stubble creating delicious friction to make her already overworked heart stutter. She almost felt like asking him how much a poor girl could take in one day, but she was afraid if she did, he would stop, and that would be inexcusable. And then he was talking, and her heart may have completely stopped, because he was talking about his past. To her. Something he almost never did, unless there was a real need for it.

"Slade was Australian Special Forces," he said softly. "He was sent to Lian Yu to rescue Yao Fe, who was Shado's father. It's a long and complicated story, but Slade was marooned there. He helped me learn to survive, and we became friends. He taught me a lot of things. And once he told me that everyone in this world is in it for themselves. He believed it then, and he certainly believes it now."

She swallowed, unable to believe that he was talking to her. Really, _truly_, talking. "I think he was surprised when you did what you did. Because it was selfless and brave, and he doesn't understand that there are people like that. That _you_ are like that." He kissed her hand again, then closed his eyes and rested his forehead against it. She felt her throat close, and tears come to her eyes at the tenderness in his actions. "You almost died today, Felicity."

She sniffed, and wished she could reach for him with her other hand, but her stupid shoulder wouldn't let her. "Yeah, well . . . " she said. "A few weeks ago I found you on a warehouse floor half dead, so I sort of know how you feel."

"No," he said sharply. "That's different. You shouldn't . . . "

"It's not so different Oliver. Just because it's the norm for you doesn't make it any less . . ." She searched for the right word to describe how she felt when he had been on that table, with Barry trying to figure out what was wrong with him. "Excruciating."

He groaned. "I'm so so sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to bring you in to all of this. Not like this."

He sounded lost, defeated, and she couldn't take it. She pulled her hand out of his and put it under his chin, tilting his face back up so he would meet her gaze. "I am NOT sorry." She said sharply.

He exhaled raggedly. She ran her hand along his jaw, and he trapped her hand in his, pressing a kiss in to it. She thought she might die from the slow burning sensation of all these little touches and words that she was probably reading too much into.

She pulled her hand back, in an effort to preserve her sanity. "What about Laurel?" She asked again.

Oliver sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Laurel is okay, physically. She knows about me. And she saw Sara, I think she put the pieces together there too. She came to visit you, or me, I don't know, but we didn't really talk much. She'll keep my secret." There was something in the way his jaw was working that told her there was more. She raised an eyebrow, waiting. Oliver sighed again and scrubbed his hands over his face. "She asked me what I was going to choose." He said softly.

Felicity saw red. She really tried not to hate gorgeous Laurel Lance, who would always be Oliver's one true love, but she was pretty sure at that moment hate was a good word. She spluttered her rage, unable to make a coherent word.

Oliver smiled at her, which shocked her down to her toes. "You know, that has always, always been one of my favorite things about you," he said softly.

She snorted. "My inability to voice my rage coherently?" She asked, incredulous.

He took her hand again, pulling it into his lap as he leaned back in the chair. If he kept touching her, she was going to go mad before they released her from this damn hospital. He closed his eyes, and Felicity was surprised to see that he looked almost . . ._peaceful_. He had looked like a lot of things in the time she had known him, but never like this. He didn't speak, so she waited, not wanting to do anything to erase the calm from his features. He waited so long to speak, she thought maybe he had fallen asleep.

"You never ask, Felicity," he said finally, keeping his eyes closed.

She was confused, but she waited him out again.

"Everyone always has questions. 'What did you miss the most?' 'What happened to you?' McKenna, my sister . . . even Digg. Everyone, except you."

She smiled. She never asked, because she knew he wouldn't tell her. He didn't tell anyone else, so why would he tell her.

A smile crossed his face, and even though he still kept his eyes closed, she knew it would reach them—it was another real smile. "Do you remember what you said to me, after I woke up when you saved my life in the back of your car?"

"Digg did the lifesaving," she corrected. He opened an eye and raised an eyebrow. She searched her memory, and shook her head. "Nope, but I am sure it was utterly ridiculous."

He closed both eyes again. "You said 'So, I've been meaning to ask . . .' And I waited with a bated breath, because I had just shared something with you that only a few other people knew at the time, and I could think of a thousand questions you would ask that I wouldn't want to answer."

She laughed out loud then, remembering what she had asked. "Do you shirk away from saying where the bathroom is often?"

His thumb was drawing patterns on her hand again. "You never ask for specifics, Felicity. You are the only one. Even in the beginning when I showed up with horrible cover stories that you could see right through, you never questioned."

She exhaled, scared to break the spell. Oliver was never this open, and certainly never this at peace while being this open. "I asked if you had any happy stories," she said slowly.

"Yeah, but it wasn't like you really expected an answer." He still had that half smile, his eyes closed and his thumb continued to swirl on the back of hand, so she figured she could go on.

"You know you can, you know . . ." she said softly. "Talk to me."

His hand stopped and he opened his eyes, to look at her. "I am terrified to." He said softly.

Her heart stopped. "Why?" She asked. This was an important conversation. Maybe the most important conversation they have had since he showed up in her car. Huh, it wasn't even a year ago. How crazy was that?

"Lots of reasons." He looked up at the ceiling. She squeezed his hand, waiting again. She had never been a particularly patient person, but she had definitely learned the art of waiting when it came to Oliver Queen. "I don't want to burden you with the darkness. I don't want you to know how much evil there really is out there. And I." He stopped and swallowed, so she squeezed his hand again. "I'm afraid." The admission came out softly, and was completely unexpected.

"Of what?" she asked, surprised.

He sat up and leaned toward her, his emotions swimming in those amazing eyes. "That you won't be able to look at me the same way, if you knew." She couldn't breathe again. "That you would run, and never look back. Because you should. Run as far and as fast as you can."

She shook her head, even as he said it. "I won't. I couldn't." She said. She held his gaze.

She saw his shoulders sag in with relief. Even as he said, "But you should."

Felicity didn't see any point in arguing. There was a storm of self doubt and conflict raging in Oliver's eyes as he leaned back in the chair, taking her hand with him again. He leaned his head back, eyes closed. She watched him for awhile, unsure if he was asleep or only brooding. At some point, sleep overtook her.


	5. Alive

_AN: Last chapter peeps! Finally we get back to Oliver. _

Chapter 5: Alive

One of the things he loved about Felicity was that for all her babbling, she was perfectly capable of comfortable silences; of waiting him out while he looked for the right words. As he sat there in that hospital chair, holding her hand and listening to her breath even out as sleep overcame her, he let all of the uncertainty over what to do next fall away and allowed himself to simply be present in the moment. She was alive, and even though she knew of the horrible decision that had been forced on him, between Shado and Sara, she still didn't look at him differently. She was brave and amazing and still amazingly untarnished, despite a really crappy couple of months. And he loved her—had loved her for he didn't know how long. He didn't understand it until he watched her blood splatter on the snow, on that rooftop this morning, but it was the truth.

He opened his eyes, confirming that she was, indeed asleep, then turned his chair so that he could watched her face. She looked so relaxed, so peaceful. It was how he felt, too, when he was with her. Despite the weightiness of the conversation they had shared, he felt _at peace_ with her hand in his lap, listening to her breathing. It was such a foreign feeling, something he never thought he would be able to find again. Even the old Oliver was never truly at peace. He was always over-eager and looking for the next bit of trouble.

Now that she had woken up, and he knew that she was okay, he supposed he could consider Digg's question from earlier. What _would_ he regret if she had died. Even as he watched her breath, holding her hand, thinking that thought sent a white hot razor of pain through his chest. There weren't words for how he felt about her, not really. For every time he had saved her—from the Dollmaker, the Count, the landmine on Lian Yu, she had saved him a thousand times over. She was his salvation. A balm on wounds he had thought long since past healing. Love was a strong word, but he felt that even it wasn't enough. He had loved before. He had loved Laurel, he loved his mother and his sister, and he had loved Tommy like the brother he had never had. But what he felt for Felicity, it was all-consuming. He could imagine her arguing that it was simply because he had almost lost her, but he knew it wasn't true. It had been growing and festering and taking on a life of its own for months.

He had two choices, he knew. He could let things go on as they had, or he could tell her how he felt. He knew that the first would be safer for her. She would be an even bigger target for his enemies than she already was, if they became involved. But even as he thought this, he could hear her scoffing at him. They were _already_ involved. The only thing missing was the physical aspect of their relationship. In the course of less than six weeks, two foes had figured out that the best way to get to him was through her. It was maddening. The second option was to tell her how he felt, and to face whatever would come together. And _that _thought made him feel as if he could fly. His world was less dark with her in it. He imagined being able to take her home, and let her spend time with Thea and his mother. He imagined waking up with her in his arms. _Salvation_. _Peace. Freedom. Love._

He remembered Shado's words again. _Stop fighting_._ And LIVE._ He couldn't do the first bit of that. His conscious would not allow him to lay down his bow while the city continued to be overrun by those who would pray on the innocent. But he wanted, desperately, to live. To let go of the darkness that plagued his heart. To let I the light. To love, and be loved.

"Hey." Felicity's soft voice broke through his thoughts, and she tapped his leg, which was propped up on the edge of her bed again, with her hand. "Where are you?"

He smiled at her. "Here. With you. Where I should be."

She tilted her head at him, and he could see her brain working. He knew that all the touching, and all the things that he had said when she had woken up the first time had taken her by surprise. He figured he should put her out of her misery and simply put it all out there. But he really didn't want to do it here, in this hospital room. It was Christmas, after all.

"What do you say I see about getting you sprung from this place?" He asked her.

She snorted. "That would be nice, but do they usually let you out after you've been shot in the shoulder?" Leave it to her to make a joke out of it.

"Probably not usually, but I am Oliver Queen. I can promise them that you will be under the best care." He sobered up and took her hand. "But only if you come home with me."

"Oliver . . ." She started.

"Look, we _will_ talk about it," he promised her. "I just don't want it to be here."

"What about Laurel?" She asked. Oh, yes, he had almost forgotten that she was still under the ridiculous misconception that he was still in love with Laurel. It was ridiculous to him, that she couldn't see what was now so clear to him. That he was hers. Now, and forever.

"What about Digg?" He asked.

Her mouth fell open in surprise. "Huh?"

He laughed, he could not help himself because she looked so incredulous. "Exactly," he said.

"Are you saying . . . " She started.

"That Laurel and I are over, and have been since I got back? Yes. I don't know why you would think differently." He pinned her with a look that let the heat he was feeling show, and her eyes widened a little.

She tilted her head. "And here I thought you were telling me you had a thing for John," she laughed.

He couldn't help but laugh. Only Felicity.

xxx

Felicity could not believe that Oliver had managed to spring her from the hospital less than five hours after coming out of surgery. She supposed his promise to have their family doctor check on her first thing in the morning helped. Seriously, who has a family doctor willing to make a house call on the morning after Christmas. A year ago, the thought of leaving the hospital so soon after having a bullet taken out of her shoulder would have totally freaked her out. But she knew Oliver had probably patched up worse at home, and that there were no more capable hands than his and Digg's.

Digg grinned at her as Oliver pushed the wheelchair had insisted she use. She inhaled the cool fresh air, glad to be out of the antiseptic smell of the hospital. The city looked beautiful, coated in the snow that continued to fall lightly. "Your chariot awaits, my lady," Digg joked, taking a deep bow. She smiled at him as he and Oliver helped her into the car.

As they drove to the Queen mansion in a comfortable silence, she looked out the window. The city looked truly peaceful, under the setting sun and a blanket of snow. Christmas lights twinkled. There seemed to be a note of promise and hope everywhere she looked. She turned her head and regarded Oliver, who was watching her with the corner of his mouth turned up in that half smile she loved. He had been very cryptic since her little nap, and somewhat reserved. But she understood why he wouldn't want to have whatever conversation they needed to have in a hospital room. Although she wasn't entirely certain how she felt about having it in his family's huge mansion, on Christmas night, with his mother and sister down the hall.

Then they were passing through the gates onto the Queen grounds, and her breath was taken away by the beauty of it. She had visited before, of course, but never after a fresh snow. She had always loved the snow. "Its so pretty," she mused out loud.

"Mmhmm," Oliver hummed. "We didn't decorate much last year. Last Christmas . . . left a lot to be desired."

"How was that only a year ago?" She mused. She remembered calling Walter shortly before his disappearance, because she had heard that he had been in a bad motorcycle crash. Which had been, in reality, the first time he had faced the Dark Archer and had barely escaped with his life.

"It's rather amazing," he said gently, "how quickly things can change."

She turned and gazed at him. "Is that what's happening here?" She whispered. She could feel Digg's eyes on her in the rearview mirror.

"We _will_ have that talk," he said, and she could hear the promise in his words.

She sighed. She was tired and sore and was tired of feeling like she was going to burn alive in his presence. She hoped that she wasn't setting herself up for disappointment. For all she knew, he wanted to talk about how they were going to go after Slade.

Mrs. Queen and Thea met them at the door. They hugged Oliver and told Felicity they were glad she was safe, and that she was welcome to stay as long as she needed to. She raised her eyebrow at Oliver, wondering what reason he had given his family for bringing her here. Roy waved from the living room. Oliver told them that he would take her upstairs to get her settled and that they would come back down later. Felicity wrinkled her nose at the stairs. "This isn't going to be fun," she groaned.

"Do you want me to carry you?" Oliver asked.

She looked at him, and realized he was serious. She snorted. "No, Oliver, I do NOT want you to carry me. Your family probably already has enough misconceptions about what is going on her."

He led her, slowly, to her room. "I'm just across the hall," he said, pointing to the door across from hers.

She walked to the bed and sank down on it with a groan. "Why does your family think I'm here?"

"Because you were shot, and you scared me, and I don't want you to be alone," he said gently, leaning against the door.

"And why I am _actually _here Oliver? Beside the promises you made my doctor for medical care . . ."

"Because you were shot, and you scared me, and I don't want you to be alone," he repeated. "And because I love the idea of you being here tonight, after everything that has happened. It feels _right._"

"About that . . ." She said.

He sat down next to her, and suddenly she couldn't look at him. She looked down at her hands. She wasn't sure she was ready for this conversation. There was no way he felt the same way she did. No matter what it had sounded like in the hospital. Was there?

"Hey," he said softly, turning her chin up to him with his hand.

And it was right there in his eyes for her to see. She forgot to breathe and lost herself in his eyes. The hand from under her chin moved to her cheek as he gentled stroked her jaw with the back of his hand. "Are you sure," she whispered. "'Cause if we go there, and you aren't . . . there's no going back, Oliver."

His other hand came up and he was cupping her face between both hands. "There already is no going back," he said softly. "Part of me wishes like hell there was, because this isn't safe for you. Or for me really, because if anyone knows about this, they are going to _know_ my weakness." His thumbs where ghosting over her cheekbones. "But again," he continued. "It seems they already know. Which is confusing and frustrating because I'm just figuring it out for myself."

"Oliver," she started.

"Shhh, not done yet," he interrupted. He took one hand from her cheek and covered her lip with a single finger. She smiled against it. "When I was . . . hallucinating, I guess, I saw Shado. And she told me that I couldn't fight what was coming. That I should put down my bow, and stop fighting, and live, or that everyone I love would die." She started shaking her head, ready to stop him there. He tapped her lips again, and she stilled. "I thought of that when Slade had you. I don't want to quit fighting—we are doing something _good_. But I'm ready to be alive again Felicity. I'm ready to really live my life. And I can't do that without you in it."

"Done now?" She asked. She was going to lose her mind if she didn't kiss him soon.

He chuckled, and his hands were sliding back on her neck and into her hair. "Not quite," he whispered, leaning closer. She was sure she was going to implode. "You save me, even when there are parts of me that don't want to be saved, parts that don't feel worthy. And you are the most amazing person I know. And I love you, even thought I don't feel worthy. I will spend the rest of my life trying to be half the man you seem to see in me."

And finally, _finally_, Oliver was kissing her. And it was so much better than she ever would have thought it could be. Time stopped and there was just the two of them. No regrets, no worries. Just him, and her, and what had grown between them this year. She knew that tomorrow, their lives would be waiting for them. They would have to try and stop Slade, and the man in the skull mask. Life at the office would be infinitely more complicated. But they would face it together. She could live with that.

xxx

Slade sat in his office, looking down at the city. This day had not gone as he had imagined. Blood's cop had reported that Ms. Smoak had checked out of the hospital and was spending the night at the Queen mansion. He contemplated her actions this morning yet again. He believed that people lived only for themselves in the end. But she had surprised him. He hadn't been surprised in years. She was selfless, which meant that she must _really_ believe in Oliver. He steepled his fingers, considering his next move.

_Cue skillet's Awake and Alive as we fade to black on Slade. Had that song stuck in my head writing these last two chapters. That, sadly, is the end for now. Shipper that I am, I can't venture too far from canon with Slade, so gotta leave that last bit there. The threat is still there. Thank you again for your kind reviews, favs and follows. The reviews make writing so much fun, and I absolutely love that this fic was finished before Christmas . . . my silly nerdy gift to you! I hope everyone has an amazing holiday!_


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